


melt your headaches, call it home

by frozentundra



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Awkward Tension, Child Abuse, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, M/M, Survivor Guilt, Time Skips, Uchiha Sasuke Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:08:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25645573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozentundra/pseuds/frozentundra
Summary: Sasuke finds solace somewhere in between the salt air and the tides, the stars and the marsh, and in the glittering blue eyes of a boy with a stupid smile.
Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 10
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi! id just like to give yall a heads up that this is gonna be kinda heavy so please, please if you aren't comfortable with the stuff i put in the tags, dont proceed. it gets really sad as we go on but i promise there are good times!!

######  **_twelve._**

The first thing he saw was smoke: dark, thick, and heavy in the air. Then he felt violent, searing heat engulfing his skin; it burned his lungs and prickled his eyes. It hurt to breathe. Sasuke's strength dwindled away, and he collapsed on his knees, his hands uselessly clawing at his chest as he desperately struggled for air. Somewhere in the distance, someone was screaming his name, and he whipped his head around to find where the voice was coming from, but with the black fog mantling the vast space, it was impossible for him to see anything. Shakily, he stood up to follow it, yet the more he walked, the less it became clear. He opted to shout back hoping the person would follow _his_ voice instead, but he was met with silence.

"Help!" he screamed again, his vision was starting to blur with tears and exhaustion was taking all over his body. It was useless, he was falling on the ground again—he was slipping away. But just right before he completely lost consciousness, right before he faded, he saw a figure running towards him, shouting his name.

"Sasuke!"

He jolted awake, his breaths were quick and shallow, his shirt was damp with sweat—it was the same dream over and over again.

Through bleary eyes he looked around his room, it was already morning. On the nightstand, his alarm was going off. The shrill, piercing sound cutting through the silence of his room meant two things: one, he already didn't like this day, because two, it was time for school. Dread settled at the pit of his stomach like lead, coarse and heavy. He didn't want to go to school, didn't want to meet other people, and pretend he liked them. But he supposed that was better than staying home feeling restless in the presence of his father.

Sasuke grudgingly got off his bed after turning off the alarm, dragging his feet to the door and down the stairs. Sunlight was seeping through the gaps of the curtains in the living room, revealing the figure of Fugaku passed out drunk on the couch.

Sasuke gulped, that wasn't good news.

The room suddenly felt cold, and he knew it had nothing to do with the crisp morning air. Carefully, he tiptoed his way to the bathroom, trying his best not to make any noise. His dad was always in a sour mood especially in the mornings, but it was worse when he was disturbed from sleep and nursing a hangover. 

At the tender age of twelve, Sasuke already knew better than to anger his dad because nothing— _nothing_ good had ever happened with Fugaku coming home reeking of nicotine and cheap ale. His father's eyes were always angry and bloodshot, and boring through Sasuke's skin it made his blood run cold in his veins. He never understood why his father had always looked at him that way, like Sasuke was the worst thing to happen in his life. There were times when he thought maybe he really was, and the notion slowly became more recurring, eating him whole until he was left empty and hollow.

Now as he looked at himself in the mirror, all he saw was a frail, weary child staring back at him. He flinched as he removed his shirt, remembering the ugly bruise blooming on his left arm, and vivid images of last night flashed in his mind: big, rough hands shoving him until he was harshly slammed against the sharp corner of the table. Sasuke's chest constricted, something was bubbling up his throat, and he forcefully pushed it down because it wasn't the time. He had to get ready for class.

* * *

It had already been a year since they moved to a small seaside town in Kushiro, where everyone knew each other and most places could be travelled by foot. Everything had been a blur to him since, like he was simply floating through time, weightless and loaded all at once. And despite his initial reluctance in accepting this new setting—this new _life_ , Sasuke had somehow managed to pick out a few good things about the place: the seemingly boundless grass fields, the soft tinkling of wind chimes carried by the salty air, and the gentle, undulating waves of the sea. The tranquility Kushiro offered was a luxury he never had in Tokyo. 

Something twisted in his gut. It seemed unreal that a year had passed since leaving the city. A year already since—

Sasuke shook his head, whisking his thoughts away. He didn't want to have thoughts anymore. He didn't want to _think_. He focused on the road instead as he walked to school, clearing his mind and preparing himself for what the day had in store for him.

* * *

Adjusting to the whole thing was a very, very difficult task for Sasuke, and his inherent response to stepping in an unfamiliar territory was to put up walls. High, solid, impenetrable walls. They did an excellent job in protecting his solitude during the first few months, but slowly and unexpectedly, a certain loudmouth neighbour had managed to put tiny cracks on them until the hole was big enough—too big for his liking—and Sasuke wasn't sure how he felt about seeing the fallen debris at his feet. And because keeping people away at arm's length was like a second skin to him, he was beyond lost when Uzumaki Naruto from next door had outright swatted said arm and went in his space unprompted.

But it wasn't like he hated Naruto. He was just...scared and wary and he'd sworn to himself he would never trust anyone, never let anyone in because—because he was better off alone. And who would want to be friends with him? He wasn't like the other kids in his grade: active, and fun, and eager. He was quiet, boring, and he mostly kept to himself, but Naruto had looked past that and befriended him anyway. 

Sasuke heaved a sigh as he got reminded of the boy. Stupid Naruto and his stupid smile and his stupid—

"Sasuke!" a voice called out ahead.

He looked up and saw a soft mop of blonde hair bouncing towards him from the school gate. How could anyone be so energetic in the morning?

He grimaced as Naruto got to his face, all smiles and teeth. He smelled like bacon.

"Good morning, Sasuke!" Stupid Naruto and his stupid smile and his stupid—

"It's 7AM, stop being so loud."

"You're so mean," Naruto stuck his tongue out. "but even though you're always bitchy to me, I still had Mom add more sausages and eggs to my bento because I know you don't eat at recess and—"

Sasuke felt like his heart was wrenched out of his chest, and it hurt—it hurt so much and he didn't know if it was good or bad.

"—if you don't eat I will shove the eggs into your mouth myself." Naruto beamed, and it was so bright, so warm that Sasuke felt it down to his fingertips.

Stupid Naruto and his stupid smile and his stupid—

"Idiot," he said, frowning. He was reminded he didn't have anything for breakfast, and his stomach growled as if on cue.

Naruto gasped and pointed at him accusingly. "See! You didn't even eat breakfast!"

"I didn't want to be late," he lied.

It was easier than having to explain why.

Naruto was about to retort, but the bell rang signalling the start of classes. They both rushed up the stairs, bags bouncing on their back as they ran.

* * *

He ended up eating his share in Naruto's bento, and the boy had practically sparkled with joy. He hated himself nonetheless, hated the way Naruto took pity on him. He didn't want anyone's pity, it only made him feel more pathetic than he already did.

"Don't," he started, gulped. "do this again. Okay?"

"Huh?" Naruto looked at him with wide, wide eyes. Sasuke thought they were pretty, blue and deep—like the sea.

"The—the bento. Don't bring me—"

"But why?" the blonde whined. "Mom says it's okay and that you should really eat more."

"I just—" _feel sorry for myself_ "know you have an appetite of a monster and a small bento is not enough—"

"Hey!" Naruto's cheeks were red. "I'm a growing boy, you know? And I told you Mom adds more when I tell her so it's fine."

It wasn't _fine_. He didn't want to be a burden to Naruto, didn't want to be another load for Kushina oba-san to carry, didn't want to be looked after like the helpless little kid he was. He was fine on his own, could get by on his own—he didn't need _anyone_.

"Tell Kushina oba-san I'm okay. I'll just bring my own food next time."

That was obviously a lie, and he knew Naruto saw through it.

"Okay, whatever you say."

* * *

Naruto brought two bento boxes the next day.

* * *

Sasuke didn't intend to. It wasn't like he _planned_ it. But Naruto had dragged him to the marsh along with Shikamaru, Choji, and Kiba and they'd played—Sasuke couldn't believe he actually did—and they were skipping stones, trying to see who would go the farthest. And Kiba had suggested they waited for nightfall to see the tides rise, and they did and they'd swum in the waters, their clothes discarded somewhere in the grass.

Sasuke had lost track of time—they all had. It was only then when Choji's stomach protested for food that they remembered to go home.

"Mom's gonna kill me," Naruto said as the two of them walked back to their house, his hands wrapped around his torso.

He didn't know what he was talking about.

Sasuke shivered despite himself, and he knew the chilly air blowing through his damp shirt wasn't the only reason. The cold seeped through his skin, into his bones, and the closer they got to their home, the more Sasuke's entire body trembled.

When he finally reached their doorstep, he wanted to step back the moment he set foot in it. He knew what waited for him behind the wood. 

"I hope you won't get into trouble," Naruto whispered, and then he was off running to their porch.

He didn't know what he was talking about.

Sasuke took a deep, shaky breath and pushed the door open. He just wanted to get this over with.

He saw his dad at the dinner table, a bottle of beer in hand. He looked like he'd been waiting. Sasuke's heartbeat quickened, and he felt even colder than before.

"Dad, I'm—I'm sorry. We were just at the—"

The back of Fugaku's hand struck his face. 

His ears rang with the impact. His cheek felt hot, it stung. And his eyes stung, too, but he couldn't cry. No, he wasn't allowed to cry. Dad had said only the weak cry. He wasn't weak, he wouldn't cry. 

Something warm dripped on his hand, and panic bubbled in his chest. 

No, no, no, don't cry. Don't _cry_.

He looked down and saw it wasn't tears. It was—

"Come home late again and a slap would be the least of your worries," Fugaku warned. He walked past Sasuke and flopped on the couch, switching the TV on, and he did it all so casually, like nothing happened, like he didn't backhand a 12-year-old child.

But Sasuke preferred it that way. It was easier to pretend like everything was normal than acknowledge the pain and the hurt he felt every time he looked at his dad. It worked most days; he was steadily getting better at setting his feelings aside. But some nights would come along with that familiar heavy feeling in his chest, dragging him down deeper, deeper into the hole of all the things he'd chosen to forget. And then he would feel everything and nothing all at once, and he would lie numb in his bed staring at the ceiling with glazed eyes, thinking just how— _how_ had things gotten so terribly wrong? 

But Sasuke knew the answer. He'd always known, but he had buried it so far down within himself he could go on with his life unapologetically and selfishly if he wanted to. Except he couldn't. Not when his dad— _his own father, flesh and blood_ —would constantly remind him it was all his fault.

Of course he was responsible for it, he didn't need to be reminded. Sasuke had lived with the crushing guilt since then, and he had carried it, thrusted it into his fragile little body—all of it—until it was all he was. 

Sasuke willed his feet to move, there was no point in staying there any longer. He dragged himself upstairs to his room and grabbed the nearest cloth to wipe the blood trickling from his nose. 

It wasn't the first time, and as horrible as it sounded, Sasuke had gotten pretty used to it by now. He distinctly heard his brother's voice in his head as he sat on the bed to alleviate the bleeding; _lean forward and pinch your nose, like this, Sasuke._

He felt his throat closing up. 

It was during that one summer in Tokyo, as he remembered. He had played too much outside and under the sweltering heat. His brother was yelling after him, telling him not to go too far and Sasuke had only grinned, bright and mischievous. 

He'd ended up in the playground two streets down. And after nearly two hours of goofing around with the other kids in the block, Sasuke was profusely sweating, feeling light-headed. He had stumbled down, feeling the tiny pebbles dig into his knees. The kids had crowded around him, just as panicked as he was, but it had only made matters worse. He couldn't breathe, and he was dizzy, and somewhere beside him, a girl was frantically yelling ' _Blood_!'. 

Sasuke had been so confused, but then he'd seen it: a drop of blood on his hand. He'd been so scared but the kids were gone and his brother was suddenly there in front of him, gently telling him instructions. 

_"Lean forward and pinch your nose, like this, Sasuke."_

His brother had carried him on his back on the way home, his chubby little fingers still pinching his nose.

Sasuke's heart ached at the fond memory, but he quickly shoved it away before the feelings could rule over him. He didn't think he could take more of it.

He softly felt around his nose to see if the bleeding had stopped, and when his fingers came out clean, a wash of relief spread through him. He sighed, long and slow, and rested his head on the wall. Fatigue was already taking over him. He stacked his pillows and carefully lay his head. Before he knew it, he was already drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Sasuke dreamed the same dream as he always did; scorching heat and smoke and ashes, and he woke up sweating and with a pounding headache and a raging stomach.

He trudged downstairs only to see the house empty. His dad was most likely out for work at the local wet market if he was gone that early. 

That was good news.

He felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest, at least now he had time to _breathe_.

He went to the bathroom to wash himself up. Another bruise was swelling as he saw in the mirror, this time on his face just above his cheekbone. It was a good thing he skipped school today, no one should see him like that. He didn't need any more eyes looking at him with pity and intrigue. He had enough. 

Sasuke walked back out to the kitchen and saw another good news: there was food on the table. It was probably last night's leftover but it would do. It was better than nothing. 

His stomach growled at the sight of fish and rice and he hurriedly stuffed it down, barking out a few coughs as his throat tried to catch up with him.

Feeling full and satiated, he flung himself onto the couch to catch more hours of sleep.

* * *

Rapid knocks on the door startled him awake.

Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he got up to get it and was surprised to see a very concerned Naruto standing outside, bright blue eyes wide with worry.

"Sasuke! You didn't—" he cut himself off, eyes shifting to the bruise on Sasuke's face. "What...what happened to you? Are you okay?"

Sasuke reflexively put a hand over his cheek as he took a step back. "It's—it's none of your business."

He slammed the door shut.

What was Naruto doing there? Naruto wasn't supposed to see him. _No one_ was supposed to see him. 

His heart was pounding in his chest. What if Naruto told the others? And told their parents? And parents told their friends? He'd be the talk of the town, and the _eyes_ , they would only grow in numbers. And the whispers. Sasuke could already hear them— _poor boy, I feel sorry for him. What an unfortunate kid._

He didn't want that. He didn't want any of that. He didn't want—

"Oi, Sasuke! Open the door!" Naruto knocked louder. "You didn't go to school today. Are you okay?"

Sasuke took a few more steps back, covering his ears.

"Sasuke!"

He didn't want to deal with that right now, and Naruto's increasingly loud voice was only adding to his blinding headache. 

Could they just leave him alone? 

"Sasuke, what's going on?"

Could Naruto just leave him alone?

"Did you get into a fight?"

Just shut up, shut up, _shut up_ —

"Go away, Naruto!" he yelled, his breaths came in heavy labored puffs and his hands dropped from his ears to clutch at his chest. "Just leave me alone!"

He heard a faint shuffling of feet from outside, he imagined it was Naruto walking away. He prayed hard it was so, closing his eyes firmly as he willed himself to calm down.

He counted the seconds, the minutes, but it remained silent. That was a good sign. Naruto should never come back.

He sat on the couch, leaning his head back and draping his arm over his eyes. His breathing was almost back to normal now, but his heart—he could still hear it in his ears, booming and wild. 

He had to talk to Naruto somehow, tell him to keep his mouth shut, tell him he never saw anything. That was right. Pretend like everything was normal. Everything was fine. Nothing was wrong. What was happening? Nothing, it was nothing. 

"Sasuke?" came a voice, muffled by the door.

Sasuke bolted upright, his fists clenched tight at his sides. Had he not told Naruto to go away? Why could he not just _leave_ —

"Sasuke I, um, I have ice cream?"

_Ice cream?_

Frowning, Sasuke made his way to the door and opened it to see Naruto holding a plastic bag in his hand, and a small box in the other.

"I told you to go away."

"Mom gets me ice cream when I'm sad," Naruto said, ignoring Sasuke's abrasive manner, as he always had. "Maybe it will help you, too?"

Sasuke nearly scoffed. If only things were that easy.

"I don't want your—"

"I have ice with me, too," the blonde pushed. "for—you know, your, um..." he trailed off, eyes darting to Sasuke's cheek.

"Just go home, Naruto." Sasuke sighed, moving to close the door again.

"No, wait! Just take the ice at least," Naruto held up the box. "I know that hurts a lot. I got a bruise once when I fell off my bike and..."

Sasuke tuned out the rest. At this point he knew Naruto wouldn't leave until he did what the boy wanted. So he relented, walked out the door and closed it behind him. He didn't think his dad would be too happy if he invited someone in without permission. 

Naruto followed him in sitting on the porch steps, setting the box down at his side and taking out a popsicle from the plastic. "Ice cream?"

Sasuke took it albeit reluctantly; there was no use in refusing Naruto. He ripped the packaging open and put the already melting ice cream in his mouth, letting the sweet, fruity flavor flood his tongue.

Beside him, Naruto was putting ice on a cloth, his brows drawn together in sheer concentration like making cold compress was a delicate process that should be done with utmost precision. 

It almost tugged a smile on Sasuke's lips. Almost.

"Here," Naruto handed him the cloth, and grinned when Sasuke took it. What he was so happy about, Sasuke didn't know. But then again, Naruto had always been a happy kid, he was always so, so radiant and positive Sasuke almost felt jealous. 

Even so, it was oddly comforting to have Naruto around. The boy was an overwhelming bouncing ball of energy that effectively distracted Sasuke from his own emptiness. And when Naruto was with him, no one paid him any attention—he would always be the quiet kid behind Naruto and Sasuke was fine with that.

"Thanks," he muttered, gently holding the cloth on his bruised cheek and instantly feeling the sting of the cold and the swelling clashing on his skin.

"What happened?" 

And there it was—the elephant in the room.

"Nothing."

"You're lying again."

"Whatever."

So what if he was? Naruto didn't need to know the truth, it wasn't his business.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" the blonde said patiently, and Sasuke made the mistake of looking at him because Naruto's eyes were so earnest, so sincere, and so, _so_ hopeful that it took all of Sasuke's willpower to not spill the truth out in the open. 

"You worry about me too much," he said instead.

Naruto looked at him incredulously, as if Sasuke had said the most absurd statement in existence. "Of course, stupid! You're my friend!"

"Friend, huh..." he tasted the foreign word on his tongue.

Did he see Naruto as his friend? What exactly did it mean to be someone's friend? 

"Yeah, friends tell each other everything."

Was that it? If friendship involved that much transparency, then Sasuke would gladly pass. 

"Well, not everything 'cause there are secrets, you know? And it's okay to keep it to yourself if it's something really personal."

Okay, that didn't sound bad. Maybe...maybe Sasuke could reconsider—

"But if you have problems, you should tell your friends so they can help you. You don't always have to deal with it alone."

Sasuke would definitely pass.

What could Naruto possibly do to help? He was just a kid like Sasuke was. They were both small and helpless, why should anyone listen to them?

It was all pointless, and friendship was pointless, too.

"I told you, Naruto. It's nothing."

Naruto looked at him for a few moments, just staring, searching, but he seemed to have found nothing. "Okay, but if you need someone, I'm always here."

For some odd reason he couldn't point, Sasuke felt light.

* * *

It was like some sick joke the universe had decided to pull on him. And Sasuke wasn't laughing. Nothing was funny in any of this.

He glared at their English teacher's neat writing on the board.

_Essay on what you would tell your future self_  
_500 words minimum_  
_Submission at 12 noon_

It was like some sick, awful joke.

He didn't even think there was a future for him anymore.

"Sorry guys," Kakashi said, not looking the least bit apologetic. Sasuke wanted to throw a chair at his face. "there's a faculty meeting and I have to keep you all occupied so you don't thrash the room. Goodluck!"

And then he was gone.

Sasuke heard a collective groan of distaste erupting around him, and it was the first time he had sympathized with them.

What would he tell future Sasuke? That no matter how many years pass, everything was still going to be shit and he could never escape the never-ending loneliness? Or would he lie and tell future Sasuke things would get better with time? 

Sasuke didn't know, and he burned holes on his paper as he struggled to find the right answer.

"Man, I hate Kakashi sensei," Naruto whined beside him, lightly smacking his forehead on the desk. Then he sat upright, like he suddenly had all the right words to put on his paper. "Hey, Sasuke. What do you say we have a sleepover tonight?" 

That was...random.

Sasuke scoffed. "No."

His dad would be _livid_.

"Come onnn. It's Friday, we don't have to worry about school." 

"No."

"But why? Is it your dad?"

Sasuke tensed, his heartbeat picking up its pace. Did Naruto know? Had he always known all this time? "What are you—"

"I can just have Mom ask permission for you. I mean, I would do it but your dad is always so grumpy and I'm kinda scared to talk to him," Naruto continued, looking at Sasuke with the same wide, hopeful eyes.

Sasuke decided it wasn't safe to look at them anymore.

"No, you don't know my dad. He's—he's very...strict. Even Kushina oba-san wouldn't appeal to him."

Naruto smirked. "We'll see about that." 

Just then, Sasuke had an idea on what to write to his future self: _Beware of Naruto_.

* * *

"Don't worry, Fugaku-san. I'll make sure they don't stay up late," Kushina said rather cheerfully, her smile sweet and vibrant.

Sasuke was distinctly reminded of stupid Naruto and his stupid smile and his stupid—

"I should have wagered a bet," Naruto said cheekily, nudging Sasuke's side. 

He saw his dad politely nodding and smiling at Kushina, but when he turned to Sasuke, his eyes were sharp with warning.

_Behave yourself._

Sasuke felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice water on him, but he forced a smile and waved feebly at his dad as Naruto and Kushina started walking back to their house.

* * *

"Alright, you two, I promised Fugaku-san you won't stay up late. Lights off at 9, okay?" 

Naruto made a sound of protest at the back of his throat. "Mom, you're no fun."

Sasuke heard a rich, hearty laugh beside him. It was Naruto's dad, sipping a mug of what he assumed was coffee at the dining table. If Kushina vaguely resembled Naruto, Minato was an exact spitting image. 

"Naruto, you better listen to your mother if you wanna have another sleepover with Sasuke-kun."

"Fine," Naruto grumbled, crossing his arms on his chest. "but can we camp outside? I wanna camp outside."

Sasuke watched as Kushina shared a look with her husband, silently passing a question in which Minato only nodded, fond and whimsical.

"Fine, your dad will set up the tent." 

* * *

"Do you think that one looks like a bear with wings?"

"It literally doesn't."

"No, no, just look at it from right here. See?"

Sasuke sighed. It was dangerous to let Naruto's mind run free because the boy would say the dumbest things. Even dumber than usual. And it was giving Sasuke a headache.

"That's the Leo constellation, dumbass."

"Okay, but how can you be so sure? It could be a bear with wings."

"Oh my _god_."

Sasuke had reached a conclusion that all sound arguments were futile against Naruto.

They were lying in the tent the other way around, their heads peeking out of the tent flap and cushioned by Naruto's awfully orange pillows.

Sasuke had always thought tents were impractical, just because the image of being uncomfortably cramped up with someone in such limited space didn't look very appealing. But there he was—elbow to elbow with Naruto in a hideous yellow tent. There was a sense of uneasiness lurking just right under his skin, threatening to come up the surface at any moment. 

"Wait, seriously. How do you know?" Naruto asked, body shifting to fully face him.

He felt a lump forming in his throat. How could he not know when his brother had taken a deep fascination with the stars? How could he not know when his brother had used to carry him to the rooftop and point him to the countless bizarre formations in the sky? How could he not know?

"My, um, my brother told me," Sasuke regretted it the instant he'd said it.

Naruto, in all his clumsy glory, scrambled up to lean on his elbows, hovering over Sasuke with saucers for eyes. "You have a brother? How come I haven't seen him?"

Sasuke visibly flinched for two reasons: one, Naruto was too close; two, how would he answer that? Why, of all moments, did he choose now to let his tongue go loose? 

As he wrestled with his brain in search for a convincing explanation, he made a point to avoid looking at Naruto and focused on the night sky instead.

Finally, he decided to go with, "He lives somewhere far away."

It was a pathetic attempt at lying, he knew that. But he hoped Naruto would buy it still.

The thrill in Naruto's eyes faded, and he flopped back down on his back. "He seems cool. I wanna meet him someday. What's his name?"

Sasuke didn't want to answer. He really, _really_ didn't want to talk about it. But there was something in Naruto's unfeigned sincerity that compelled him to indulge the boy's curiosity. 

So he said, "Itachi."

Even saying his name was painful. But he couldn't really cry now, could he? Not in front of Naruto, no. _Especially_ not in front of Naruto. Sasuke knew the boy had only good intentions, but could he really be trusted?

"Itachi," his playmate repeated—was that what all he was? "Wow, even his name is cool."

Hearing that from someone completely unacquainted with his brother sent a warm, tingling feeling in his chest. Indeed, Itachi was cool. The coolest brother he could ever ask for. And for the first time, he couldn't agree more with Naruto.

* * *

There it was again: the all too familiar burning sensation on his skin, swallowing him whole and stifling his breaths. The running figure had never come close to him, and Sasuke would always wake up even before it reached him. 

But tonight was different.

He saw Itachi in his dreams. He looked just the same as Sasuke remembered: the prominent grooves under his eyes born out of the force of growing up too young; the pitless depth in his intelligent eyes; and the gentle, comforting smile he had on his face that always felt like home.

In the dream, he had saved Sasuke from the raging fire. He had been the one to call out and shout for Sasuke's name in the thick of the smoke, running to him with deadly urgency. He had carried Sasuke on his back—it was a habit even in reverie—and they had run, and run, and run, until they'd reached a blinding wellspring of light.

And Sasuke jerked awake. Beside him Naruto stirred, slowly rousing due to the sudden movement. He was sitting up now, too, and Sasuke realized a bit too late there was something cascading down his face.

 _Tears_.

Quickly and a bit furiously, he wiped them off with his fists. Didn't he swear he wouldn't cry in front of Naruto? Didn't he swear he wouldn't cry at all? 

"Sasuke?" came Naruto's voice, evidently laced with worry. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he sniffed. "just a bad dream."

It wasn't, entirely. But he had to make up another lie to save himself and Naruto from an unnecessary confrontation. 

"Sasuke, it's okay. You can tell me." 

Sasuke supposed he could, but he'd rather not. After all, could he trust Naruto with his feelings? Could he?

"Can I trust you?"

Naruto looked at him with an unspeakable intensity, full of warmth and patience and understanding. And in that moment, Sasuke thought, Naruto somehow looked older and wiser than he was. "You can trust me. We're friends, remember?"

Were they really? Sasuke wasn't sure anymore, but at that point, the pain and the sadness had become so unbearable that he was willing to tell Naruto _everything_. He was desperate and begging for a chance to have the crushing weight lifted off his shoulder, and he'd take it however fleeting it was. 

So he started talking. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
> comments and kudos make me cry and i love crying ♡


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so uh this one is longer than the first one bc i too have lost my self control. and i changed the tone a bit to match sasuke's thoughts bc this is, like, 99% introspection and only 1% angst aha...,.
> 
> enjoy !! ♡

######  **_sixteen._**

Sasuke had always taken pride in his self-control, a skill he had honed and mastered as he grew up in the warzone people liked to call high school. He believed it was one way to survive: keeping a low profile and avoiding trouble. So he had—with utmost effort—tightened his grip on the reins of his emotions and held himself back from going on a blind rampage whenever incredibly tough situations would arise.

That control didn't last long.

He had a particularly bad day: he woke up late; his bike had a flat tire so he had to take the train (and he hated crowded spaces); he forgot his homework; and got a 10-minute long lecture about negligence and responsibility from Ebisu-sensei.

Naturally, he was thrown into a foul mood. He had snapped at Naruto at one point, and Sasuke supposed it had been _that_ bad because he didn't see Naruto for the rest of the day. He'd be lying if he said it didn't make him feel worse. And just then, he realized he’d been taking it for granted whenever Naruto made efforts in lifting his spirits during times like this, where he’d only laugh it off and make dumb jokes until the creases on Sasuke's forehead disappeared and they would fall back into their usual innocuous banter. 

He guessed today wasn't his day.

So when the class got dismissed, he made his way out to the school grounds alone. It was strange somehow; he was so used to the stupid blonde chatterbox yapping away beside him as they went home that Sasuke almost felt empty when the only thing he heard was the random chatters around him. Otherwise, there was dead silence.

Though that silence was short-lived when suddenly there was a jeering voice behind him.

He didn't need to look back to know it was the same low-life blockheads from Class 3-C again.

“Well, that’s surprising. Uchiha's not with his boyfriend today,” Sakon sneered, and his idiot friend Kidomaru cackled like it was the funniest punchline he'd ever heard in his life. Pathetic.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have given them the satisfaction of biting back when it was so apparent they were only trying to get a rise out of him. But his day had started out pretty shit, and even gone shittier as it progressed, and then these bastards just wouldn't hop off his fucking dick, so Sasuke abandoned all the impulse control he had accumulated throughout the last four years. 

He whirled around and his fist struck Sakon's jaw before his mind could register what was happening. A dull, throbbing pain shot up his arm and his knuckles felt warm from the abrupt collision of bones and skin. Sakon staggered back, eyes wide in shock, like he didn't expect Sasuke would’ve had the guts to retaliate. Several students were now watching them, but Sasuke couldn't bring himself to care.

His eyes shifted to Kidomaru, who was too stunned to move and looking like a dumb fucking deer caught in the headlights, and he prepared himself to blow another punch when Sakon lunged at him, tackling Sasuke to the ground and punching him right in the nose. White exploded at the back of Sasuke's eyes for a split second before his hands grabbed Sakon's collar, pulled him in, and crashed their heads in a blinding head-butt. The weight slid off him as Sakon fell back on the ground, his hands cradling his head, yelling in pain. Sasuke hurriedly stood despite the pounding in his skull, and planted his feet firmly on the ground to take on the other guy. He was significantly taller than Sasuke by three inches, but Sasuke had no doubt he could bring him down just as easily as the other one.

He could see a circle of students had started to form around them, some silently watched with wild interest in their eyes, while some yelled, urging them on to _fight, fight, fight_. An odd, electrifying spark coursed through his body at the incitement, so he hurled himself forward, his fist surging into a sharp uppercut, and landed a punch just below Kidomaru's chin. He heard a satisfying crack as he took a step back, and watched the guy stumble on his own feet as he tried to get his bearings. 

But Sasuke wasn't feeling merciful that day. 

Adrenaline was pumping in his veins, and there was searing hot anger boiling in his blood; he wanted to beat the shit out of the bastard. He took quick strides forward, his mind playing a hundred scenarios of how to put the guy in his place, but before Sasuke could reach him, he was being pulled back by his uniform. Sakon had recovered and was now holding Sasuke up under his armpits and locking his hands behind Sasuke's head, effectively restricting his movements. Just as Sasuke was about to kick him backwards in the shin to escape from the hold, he felt a blow to the gut and lurched, feeling all air escape from his lungs. Kidomaru hit him with another punch in the face, and Sasuke felt the early adrenaline seeping away out of his skin. His knees buckled, fists loose, and all he could do was glare at the taunting asshole in front of him.

“Not so brave now, huh? You fucking fairy.”

Something inside him violently twisted and churned—like dark bile threatening to burst out of his throat. Sasuke wasn’t stupid. He'd heard miserable men use that word before, and it was so maliciously thrown against scrawny, fragile-looking boys like him, and he hated it with every fiber, every cell in his body. 

It wasn't his fault he looked like that, wasn't his fault his body had failed to grow into their conventional idea of a man. If anything, all he had was his father to blame for the years of neglect he'd suffered through. 

Sasuke realized it was impossible to break the prick's nose with his current position, so he resorted to spitting on his face.

“ _Motherfucker_ —” Kidomaru raised his fist to attack Sasuke again, but then the absolute nutjob of a jerk was thrown to the ground and another student was on top of him, bashing his face in with relentless, vicious punches.

 _Naruto_.

Sasuke was quick to use the distraction to free himself from Sakon's grasp, kicking him in the shin as he intended earlier and slamming his knee up to the boy's stomach when he fell forward. Sasuke relished in the sight of Sakon dropping on his knees, chest heaving with ragged coughs as his lungs fought for air. 

But it wasn't enough.

He needed them to hurt more, more, _more_.

Sasuke roughly shoved the guy's shoulders until he fell flat on his back, and straddled him to continue battering that stupid face with his fists.

It was ridiculous, but largely annoying and really fucking frustrating how Naruto had come to his aid again. The idiot had been nothing but persistent in bearing his hand out every time Sasuke would stumble and fall, but that didn't make him any less reluctant to grasp it even after he had long accepted the fact they were friends. 

The irritation he had boiling inside him must have had manifested into his punches, because he could see red then: on his knuckles, in his nails, on Sakon's dumb face.

But Sasuke couldn't stop. All he could think about was how it felt good to not be the face under a fist this time, to see blood not his own staining his hands, to feel the burn on his face not from the bruises but from the sheer pleasure of inflicting them on someone else. There was momentary fear in his chest as he came to comprehend how much he reveled in the violence, but it vanished as quickly as it came because—because there was nothing wrong with it, right? He was only defending himself from egotistical, pathetic bullies. He wasn't wrong for that. No one would blame him for that.

So he punched, and punched, and punched until he couldn't feel his hands anymore and someone had to drag him away, telling him to _stop, stop it, Sasuke—_

“—that’s enough!” Naruto's voice rang clear and loud in his ears.

Sasuke blinked slowly, as if waking up from a dream, and looked around to see the two boys curling in on themselves, groaning. Then he looked back at Naruto, who was staring at him with—was that panic? Fear? Worry? He didn't know and he didn't have much time to mull over it because Iruka sensei was suddenly there, noticeably horrified judging by the way his eyes were bulging out of its sockets, mouth gaping in shock. 

But then he was saying something and Sasuke couldn't make it out; there was a ringing in his ears and it felt like he was underwater, their voices muddling together in his head. He felt numb all over, except for the warmth on his arm where Naruto was holding him. 

Somehow, Sasuke didn't feel empty anymore.

* * *

Iruka suspended them for three days.

He had called their parents and notified them of the immediate disciplinary measure to be taken. Sasuke couldn't help but relax a bit when his dad had told Iruka over the phone that he was at work and couldn't make it to school. Nevertheless, he'd said he understood the decision and would take the wise action to discipline his kid.

Sasuke knew all too well what that action entailed.

Kushina, on the other hand, had come barging in the office with barely controlled rage as she took in the disaster of a sight of the two young boys. She drove them back home after a long-winded discussion with Iruka and proceeded to lecture them at her living room while Sasuke and Naruto tended to their (luckily) minimal injuries. She left them to themselves after that, saying she had to buy groceries and muttering something like _'a huge headache of a son'._

“This sure takes me back,” Naruto said, looking at where Sasuke had an ice pack against his cheek. 

Sasuke glared at him. “I had them.” 

“Didn’t look like it.”

“Why won't you stay out of my business, Naruto?”

The blonde threw his hands up in exasperation. “I was just helping you! That wasn't a fair fight and you know it!”

 _I'm not the same child anymore, I don't need help._ Sasuke wanted to tell him, but he knew it would only fall on deaf ears and Naruto would always come running to his side again, and again, and again.

So he sighed, dejected, and muttered weakly. “I can handle myself.”

“I know you can,” Naruto said softly, his fingers fiddling with the cotton ball he used on his elbow scratch. “and I've already said this, like, a million times, but you don't always have to do everything by yourself, you know that, right?”

Sasuke put down the ice pack on the coffee table, and didn't respond. Of course he knew that. If there was something Naruto hadn't stopped drilling in his head in the last four years that they've known each other, it was how Naruto would always be there for him and wouldn't leave him no matter what happened.

He had a vague idea why Naruto felt inclined to stay by his side.

The idiot had grown protective over Sasuke shortly after he knew how Sasuke’s father treated him following the tragedy in Tokyo, how Fugaku was out and Itachi had to rescue Sasuke from the fire engulfing their humble apartment, how the brothers had stumbled on themselves when a huge chunk of wood crashed in front of them, how Itachi had told him to run while the older struggled to stand up with an injured leg, how Sasuke had done as he was told and ran until his feet hurt, how he had rushed outside and waited for Itachi to come out of the burning house, how he had watched with paralyzing fear as Itachi finally emerged but lifeless on a stretcher, how his screams had drowned in the sirens and he'd ruptured his throat yelling Itachi's name over and over but his brother had never budged, and how he had fallen on the ground feeling just as dead when he realized Itachi was _gone_.

“It wasn't your fault,” Naruto had told him one time at sunset by the beach, their toes digging into the warm sand, and skin tingling from the salt air. “I didn't know him at all but I'm sure he didn't regret saving you. And he'd probably do it again if it meant you get to live your life.”

“Well, that's really fucking selfish,” Sasuke had said, the familiar burning in his chest set alight. “and so damn stupid of him.”

“I don't think your brother would appreciate you calling him that.” 

“How the fuck did he expect me to _live_ , Naruto? Did he think I'd go on normally and act like I'm okay with the fact that I survived and he didn't? Should I be fucking thankful?” Sasuke had grieved, realizing his hands were clenched on the sand when he felt the tiny pinpricks of grains digging into his palms. “Should I thank him for leaving me alone? For leaving me with—with dad? Tell me, Naruto, because I can't seem to fucking wrap my head around it.” 

Naruto had been silent then—the only sound was the gentle waves flirting with the shore—his eyes had reflected the sun and the sea as he looked at Sasuke not with pity, but with immense tenderness and vast understanding of the pain and the burden he was carrying.

“Sasuke,” he had said, scooting closer, his thighs warm against Sasuke's. “you know those weren’t your brother's intentions, and whatever came next was beyond his control. He didn't expect you to be happy about any of it, but he must have seen something far ahead worth living for. He must have thought about your dreams or something, you know? He was probably like, _doesn't matter if I'm gone as long as Sasuke gets to live his dream of being an astronaut,_ or whatever.”

Sasuke had wiped at his nose; he hadn’t noticed he was tearing up then. “I don't want to be an astronaut, you idiot.”

Naruto giggled. “I mean, it is plausible.”

“That’s more of Itachi’s thing.”

Sasuke had been grateful for the idiot’s attempt at lightening the mood, but it hadn't taken away the lingering grief in his chest. “He—he shouldn't have saved me, Naruto. He should be the one living his dream because, listen, he's always been the better one of us, and he should have lived instead of—”

“Don't you even _dare_ finish that thought, Sasuke,” Naruto had said firmly, the playful lilt in his voice suddenly gone. “Your life isn't any lesser than his, so stop embarrassing Itachi and cherish your life, goddammit.” 

Sasuke had been taken aback, but it was a good kind of surprise, because who would have known the blonde idiot next door was so talented at convincing people they were genuinely worthy and deserving of a good life?

He'd felt himself smile towards the sky before he knew it.  
  
Just that time, he had let Naruto's reassuring words wash over him like the waves, taking away his troubles even just for a moment.

“You sound like an aggressive shrink right now.” 

Naruto lightly punched his arm. “Go take me up on my advice before I start charging you, bastard.”

“He was a great brother,” Sasuke had said after a while of simply listening to the calming sea, and letting his heartbeat fall into rhythm with it. “When mom died giving birth to me, I could only imagine the responsibility he had to take. He said dad was…too broken to fend for us. And—and Itachi was great. He was just so…”

He couldn't go on, and he had only hoped Naruto would be able to catch what he was fumbling to say.  
  
He had spent the rest of the twilight burrowed in Naruto's shoulder; the soft, tan fingers drawing gentle circles on his back, and the rising tides carrying his quiet sobs into the sea as they went.

When he pulled himself back to the present, the same fingers were gently dabbing Neosporin on the cleaned cut just above his eyebrows. Sasuke didn't even notice Naruto had moved, but he was there in his space, and Sasuke could almost count the lashes lightly brushing against Naruto's cheeks with his every blink, could feel his warm breath ghosting along his face, could smell the faint mixed scent of sweat and Naruto's cologne overwhelming his senses.

“…What are you doing?” 

“Uh, first aid? What does it look like, dumbass?” Naruto leaned back as he finished his ministrations.

And Sasuke's heart thundered in his chest.

_What the hell is going on?_

“Thanks,” he murmured. “I, uh, I should get going.”

Sasuke stood up abruptly and made a move to leave, but Naruto swiftly caught his wrist.

“What, already? Your dad won't be home until, like, 8.”

“I’m going to take a rest, idiot. My body is _dying_.”

Naruto let go albeit reluctantly. “Geez, fine. But I'm coming over tomorrow.”

“Whatever. Not like I can stop you.”

 _Not like I don't want you to,_ was left unsaid.

* * *

Fugaku did take actions that night when he got home, which horribly involved Sasuke kneeling on rock salt for an hour, and Fugaku belting his outstretched palms, the back of his thighs, and his haunches, his body jerking with every whip that left angry, red welts on his pale skin. Sasuke was fairly certain his dad had seen his ruthless punishment as justified and wise as he had claimed, but Sasuke knew better. He knew it was another one of Fugaku’s excuses so he could displace his deep-seated self-hate on his son, free of guilt.

Sasuke staggered his way back into his room, his knees, his legs— _his entire body_ —burning in pain. 

The last thing on his mind before he passed out from unbearable exhaustion was his father's words: “ _You've become a man.”_

* * *

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Naruto glared at the swelling marks on Sasuke's skin, his hands tightly fisted at his sides.

Sasuke dropped the hem of his shorts, letting it hang loose around his thighs. “You say that every time.” 

“Yeah, no, Sasuke. I'll fucking go through with it this time.”

“No, you won't.”

“How are you so calm about this?!” Naruto nearly screeched. “It doesn't make sense! He doesn't make sense! You're all, like, bruised up and fucking battered and he, what? Goes out of his goddamn way to make it worse?!”

“Naruto, it's fine,” It wasn't. “you can scream all you want but it won't change anything and there's nothing we can do about it.”

Sasuke could see the conflict in Naruto's eyes as he grappled with his emotions, but after a few moments that felt like ages, the blonde finally loosened up, shoulders slumped, yet brows still furrowed as he joined Sasuke and sat on the bed.

“Did you treat your welts at least?”

Sasuke nodded. “Took a cold shower and all that.”

“I hate how this is becoming normal thing for you,” Naruto grumbled. “and I hate how we're so helpless about it.”

“Don't get yourself involved in this,” Sasuke didn't want to taint Naruto's picture perfect life. He lived in a great household with his great parents, and he had great friends, and the last thing he would want was to get tangled up in Sasuke's mess.

“Too late, bastard. I was already involved the moment we became friends,” Naruto smiled at him, smug. “You’re stuck with me for life.”

Sasuke gasped. “The horror.”

“Shut up,” Naruto laughed, and playfully shoved Sasuke which he didn't really resist so he fell back on the bed. “We both know you secretly like me.”

It was an innocent jab, he knew, but it didn't quite stop him from doing a double take and look up at Naruto with slight panic.

“Who says I like you, idiot. I tolerate you.”

Naruto dropped to a sprawl beside him. “You’re a terrible liar, Sas.” 

“I’m going to kick you off my bed.”

“Wow, those bastards really got you acting up, huh?”

“They deserved it.”

“Yeah, and the look on their faces when they got their asses handed to them? Fucking wonderful.”

“And _I'm_ the violent one?”

“What? It was funny,” Naruto snorted, shifting closer. Sasuke didn't flinch away this time. “I’m glad Iruka sensei didn't let them off so easily.”

Ah, right. The jerks got suspended, too; at least Iruka sensei was fair about the whole thing.

“Dad told me I've become a man for beating them up.”

He spared a glance at Naruto and saw him frowning.

“That is so weird.”

“I think it's…a good sign.”

“Sure, let's just forget the _signs_ on your thighs that he whipped you until you couldn't fucking walk.” 

Sasuke winced, as if feeling the sharp slap of leather against his skin all over again. “It’s just—it’s the first nice thing he's ever said to me.”

“Well, you are a man whether or not you get yourself banged up in the process,” Naruto said, indignant. “Also, whatever. Fuck being a man. Men are brainless sacks of shit and total wastes of oxygen and they deserve to perish.”

Sasuke stared at him. “Impressive. Do you only use your brain for insults?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Okay, I guess you're right.”

“About men being the biggest shit on earth?” 

“Yeah, that too.” Sasuke agreed cheekily. “But, uh, thanks. For all that.”

“My pleasure, Uchiha-sama,” Naruto snickered. “No, but seriously, Sas, you'll always have me.”

“I know.”

A hush descended over them, save from the soft whirring of Sasuke's ceiling fan resonating in his room. He took strange comfort in it.

He had always embraced his lone, silent moments, but when the idiot came in his life (and Sasuke had comically visualized it as Naruto smashing his way through the wall instead of the door), he had unknowingly accepted the chaos that was Uzumaki Naruto and somehow forgotten along the way what it was like to be left dangerously alone with only his thoughts swirling in his head.

Now, he also found Naruto's own frenzied musings pounding away at his wits and hollering in his ears. And as if that wasn’t terrorizing enough, Sasuke suspected the idiot's sunny disposition was rubbing off on him, too, if he were to look for some explanation why he was steadily learning the wonderful art of (dry) humor, which he didn't even think was plausible.

Sasuke couldn't really say he didn't like it.

Although it was a very unusual feeling to him, he appreciated Naruto’s company so much despite his ridiculously high tendencies of being the biggest pain in the ass. Sasuke didn't think he could remember the last time he genuinely enjoyed the presence someone—other than Itachi—had offered.

And as they lay there in his cozy, rumpled sheets, he let himself bask in the solace he found in Naruto's warmth.

* * *

“You are the worst painter I have ever seen,” Sasuke deadpanned an hour into painting with Naruto.

They were at the Uzumakis' backyard, comfortably seated on the grass and working on their respective rain barrels. It was a project Yamato sensei had assigned for their homeroom class, and he had vaguely rambled something about the benefits of water conservation. Sasuke hadn't really paid attention.

“Okay, _Homer_ ,” the blonde quipped, flicking his brush in Sasuke's general direction. “let’s see what you got, then.”

“Homer was a poet, you absolute genius,” he said as he watched Naruto crawl over to his workspace.

“Really? He didn't tell me that.” 

“Why would he—”

“Oh, wow. I really hate to ask you this, Sasuke, but is there anything you _can't_ do?” Naruto stared in awe at what Sasuke had painted on his rain barrel. 

It was Kushiro's sea at sunset. The intricate strokes of the blue waves were beautifully done, even at its half-completed state, and the skies were painted a harmonious blend of light orange and pink with three simple white V-lines meant to depict birds soaring along the shore.

Sasuke didn't think his work was that admirable; Naruto probably just had shit standards when it came to art. “It’s average at best, Naruto. Don't blow your head off.”

“Modesty doesn't suit you,” Naruto tittered, still examining the craft before him. He clambered back to his own space after a few moments and proceeded to add a flurry of unrelated, messy details on his rain barrel.

“I don’t think ramen _and_ a fox go well with your very creative handprints,” Sasuke mused as he took a peek at Naruto's work.

“Hey! It's called abstract painting, you dickhead. Mind your own business,” Naruto made a face.

Kushina came out thirty minutes later with soymilk and dango. 

“That’s really beautiful, boys,” she commented, patting their heads before going back in.

Sasuke felt a warm, tingling sensation in his chest at the gesture, but was soon replaced with an abrupt, muted ache when his eyes fell on the dango. Perhaps he'd been staring a bit too longer than what Naruto deemed as normal because Naruto was moving and his voice seemed closer when he spoke.

“What’s wrong? Do you not like dango? I can ask Mom for another snack.”

Sasuke blinked and hurriedly explained, waving his hands in front of him. “No, no. It's not that. I just—dango was Itachi's favorite and…”

“Oh…I'm sorry I didn't—” 

“It's okay. I was just…reminded.”

Sasuke still dreamed of Itachi at times, but over the course of the years those dreams had changed. It wasn't the awful flashback of the fire anymore, though they return occasionally, particularly on his bad days. Some nights it was just a random memory: Itachi just watching cartoons with him; reading him a book; teaching him how to solve a Rubik's cube; chasing him around their house; and then some.

He missed his brother so terribly.

And Sasuke feared he was crying again when he felt something wet on his face. He was half annoyed, half unimpressed when he realized it was only Naruto brushing red paint on his cheek, lips stretched into the widest prankish grin. 

“ _Why_ ,” Sasuke said simply.

Naruto shrugged, still grinning at him. “No reason.”

“It’s acrylic paint, dumbass.”

“Okay, and?”

Sasuke groaned. “Removing it is a pain in the ass. Like you.”

“That’s not very nice of you, Uchiha,” Naruto clutched at his chest in mock hurt. 

“God, you are such a _child_ ,” Sasuke said, but his hand was already making its way to dip his own paintbrush.  
  
Then he tackled Naruto to the ground.

Naruto yelped as he fell backwards, his hands flailing in front of him with the grace of a newborn goat, while Sasuke used his unoccupied hand to bat Naruto's arms away as the idiot struggled to shield himself from the impending attack. 

“There’s no way in hell I'd be the only one— _fucking stop moving_ —going to school with paint stains on the face,” Sasuke gritted out, straddling Naruto as they continued their arm battle.

Naruto fought for his life for another minute before finally yielding, his hands falling limply at his sides. “Fine, fine! I accept my defeat!” 

Sasuke stopped his movements, feeling victorious. “I see common sense hasn't left you yet.”

“Just go through with it already and have me die a quick, painless death by your hands, Uchiha-sama.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told.”

Sasuke didn't waste another second longer and leaned in so he was hovering closely over Naruto, his hand steadily tracing the blonde's whisker marks with his brush. Sasuke caught the faint sweetness of the dango with Naruto's every breath, saw the white flecks that dusted his azure eyes, and felt every twitch of his cheeks as Sasuke painted more dark lines along his skin. 

_He's so pretty,_ was Sasuke's first thought, his breath hitching at the groundbreaking awareness. And by the time their eyes locked in a nearly hypnotizing gaze, he'd gone completely, totally, utterly _breathless_.

“T-that’s too much, bastard,” Naruto stammered, his face flushed. 

With his brain reduced to a mush, Sasuke couldn't think of anything to blame when he realized his eyes had dropped to the idiot's lips, so he damned gravity to hell instead. Just then, a horrifying thought had loudly made itself known at the very forefront of his mind, almost rendering him paralyzed.

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes,” was the best coherent reply he could conjure.

Neither of them moved even when Sasuke had long finished drawing on Naruto's face.

His heart was wildly slamming into his ribcage, and the _thought_ was still there, waiting to be taken care of. 

He was a _boy_ , Naruto was a _boy_.

Boys didn't kiss each other. That was just…weird. Absurd, even. Right?

It was _absurd_ , and Sasuke felt utterly stupid for even thinking it, so he all but scrambled up, doing it so abruptly like Naruto had burned him. Contrarily, the blonde lay completely still, breathing quite heavily, even as Sasuke had already gone back to his rain barrel in an effort to distract himself.

In his peripheral, he saw Naruto slowly, very slowly, coming to his senses, and sitting up in the same manner. Then he stood up and cleared his throat rather awkwardly.

“I, uh, I'm going to get more snacks,” he announced before darting off inside.

Sasuke let go of the breath he didn't realize he was holding, and let his hand fall from where he'd been pretending to paint.

He was so fucked.

* * *

Sasuke hadn't entirely grasped the reality that Naruto had managed to consume such an enormous part of his life until he tried to come up with desperate ways to avoid the idiot.

 _Difficult_ was an understatement; _impossible_ would be more fitting.

Naruto lived just literally next to his house, and that alone should have lit up a glaring warning sign denoting that his idea was doomed to fail, but Sasuke had elected to ignore the blatant fact in favor of his hopes of succeeding.

He should have known better.

They rode their bikes to school together (it was Minato who had the heart to fix his flat tire), sat in class together, ate lunch together, and biked home together. They were joined at the hip, and the only time they weren't stuck to each other was during club meetings and he couldn't even take advantage of that because all meetings were held and finished at the same time.

So Sasuke had grudgingly accepted his fate as he lay awake in his bed that night, his thoughts helplessly wandering off to stupid Naruto and his stupid smile and his stupid face and his stupid lips.

He found himself dreaming not of dark ashes and smoke, but of tan hands, and sun kissed hair, and ocean eyes.

* * *

“You seem to spend too much time with that Uzumaki boy,” Fugaku commented one time over dinner.

It was casual, but Sasuke wasn't fooled. It was dripping with malice, and his heartbeat drummed thunderously in his ears, his blood drastically freezing in his veins. Fugaku was looking at him intently as he waited for an answer, and Sasuke had never felt so seen, so transparent, like his thoughts were being pried open and ripped out for all the world to see.

He couldn’t help but squirm under his father's scrutinizing gaze. “We’ve just been working on our project, that's all.”

“I see,” Fugaku nodded, though he didn't look convinced. “You’re not doing anything…foolish, are you?”

Sasuke's vile, cruel mind decided to replay that particular moment in the backyard. “No, dad.”

“Good, because I can't have a goddamned queer in this house.” 

His hammering heart stuttered to a stop, his fists clenched around the silverware. There was a choleric bile brewing in his gut as he remembered the bastards who had called him almost the same, horrible slur. Sasuke felt like throwing up.

“I’m _not_ like that,” he muttered, but all he really wanted was to shout in his father's face. 

He was seething, and he felt _scared_.

What would his father do if he knew—if he knew what Sasuke had been fantasizing about in the past week? What would his father feel if he knew of Sasuke's blooming curiosity about himself? What would his father say if he knew how Sasuke had been struggling to understand his own feelings? 

There were always questions, but never answers. And Sasuke wasn't sure if he wanted to know; he hoped he would never find out. 

“I didn't say you were,” Fugaku said, his face impassive but vicious threat lurked just beneath the surface. “but if you end up like one of those godforsaken things, Sasuke, I'll make damn sure you regret it, you hear me?”

Sasuke didn't get the chance to respond, and he was glad; he was too terrified to speak, to even _breathe_. Fugaku finished his meal and trudged back upstairs, leaving Sasuke cold, shaking in fright, and wondering if he should push through his intention of steering clear of Naruto.

* * *

“Of course you got an A-plus,” Naruto bleated beside him. “Of course Homer would get an A-plus.”

“B isn't that bad for an art prodigy like you,” Sasuke said in jest as Yamato sensei handed out their grades on their rain barrel. 

“You’re terrible at comforting people.”

“I try.”

* * *

“Let’s come down to the beach!” Naruto yelled over the wind as they rode back home, his hair flapping in different directions. “And like, celebrate our success as the newest rising stars in the world of art, or whatever.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes at the poorly made up excuse, but found himself nodding along to the idiot's spontaneous escapades as he had learned through the years. Naruto beamed seeing the confirmation and doubled his speed, his pedals and feet blurring as he kicked off.

The 5 pm sunset glowed beautifully over the shore, blushing a lovely rosy hue along the skyline. Fishermen were starting to haul their boats onto the port as the day wrapped itself up. Naruto almost stumbled on his feet as he ran off to the waters, his uniform discarded messily on the sand. His whoops filled the air, and slashed against the waves. Sasuke followed not long after and shivered at the cool breeze, but the sea itself was warm and welcoming, and he let himself be swayed by the tides.

On his far left, Naruto plunged and broke to the surface five seconds later holding up a tiny conch shell in his palm. He paddled towards Sasuke and handed it to him. 

“Consider it a gift,” he grinned, blinking salt water off his lashes. 

Sasuke raised a brow. “…It's not my birthday.”

“For your A-plus, dummy.”

“Why is it such a big deal to you?”

“It isn't. I'm just happy today.”

“You’re always happy,” Sasuke splashed water at him. “You're like, the fucking sun—dumb and blinding. I don't ever want to look at your face again.”

Naruto burst out laughing. “The one time he compliments me, he compares me to a massive burning ball of gas. Real smooth, Sasuke.”

“That wasn't a—” 

“Uh-huh.”

“I will drown you.” 

* * *

They came back up on the shore some time later after the idiot had exhausted himself (Sasuke didn't think that was possible) and sprawled in the sand with bodies flushed, chests heaving.

The sun ducked halfway below the horizon, and the skies were tinted with the last rays of orange. The beach was mostly deserted by then, save for the two of them and a random dweller by the port. 

Naruto exuded warmth beside him amidst the chilly air, and Sasuke almost felt pathetic when he wanted to smother himself with it, anything to have Naruto close— _closer_. Somewhere at the back of his mind his father's voice resounded, like a damn blaring alarm triggered every time his thoughts strayed near Naruto: _I'll make damn sure you regret it._

Sasuke swallowed the rising panic in his throat. There was a different kind of cold that slithered down his spine; it was bitter, raw. And he realized if he lingered around Naruto longer, it would only get dangerous for him, for the both of them. There was no telling what could happen if push came to shove, and there was certainly no guarantee that his father would leave Naruto unscathed if things went spiraling out of control. 

Of course, Sasuke wouldn't let it get to that point. It wouldn't even escalate from where they were now because Sasuke had made his decision then: he would put out this…this feeling, this _fire_ —whatever this was—before it could completely consume him and destroy everything he'd worked so hard for. He didn't think he could handle losing Naruto, too—he didn't even want to think about it.

“Whatcha thinkin' about?” Ah, speak of the devil.

“Nothing.”

“You know,” Naruto turned to Sasuke, his elbows sinking into the sand as he propped his head up. “in the four long years we've known each other, I’ve come to learn that your _nothing_ usually means _something_. Besides, your head just can't possibly be like, empty.”

“You did manage, though.”

“Oh, fuck off,” the blonde flicked Sasuke’s ear, laughing. “Seriously, what is it?”

Sasuke went for the half truth. “Just thinking about your idiot face.”

“Aw, that's cute. I knew you liked me.”

“Shut up or you'll have sand for dinner.”

“Jesus, you're even worse than Mom and she hit menopause.”

Sasuke grimaced. “Naruto, I am really not interested in your mother's menstrual cycle. Or the lack thereof.”

The idiot fell flat on his back as he choked on laughter, his eyes pinched shut and Sasuke was sure tears were starting to form in them, because that was just _so_ Naruto, to laugh at the smallest and the dumbest of things. And it was so, so endearing that Sasuke could only wish he could find happiness just as easily as Naruto could.

“Please,” Naruto wheezed beside him as he wiped his tears. “you’re literally the funniest person, like, ever. And you don't even try. Oh god, I'm about to cry again.”

“You need to meet more people, then.”

“Okay, I may be Mister Congeniality, but I already have you, and Shika, and Choji, and Kiba, and Sakura, and Ino, and—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Stop naming every student from 3-A, you fucking sap.”

“You're my favorite, though,” Naruto muttered after a while, and it was so quiet against the crashing of the waves and the blowing of the wind that Sasuke almost hadn't caught it, but he'd heard it as clear as day, nonetheless.

He hoped it was just another one of the idiot's shitty one-liners that had the sole purpose of rattling him, but when he looked at Naruto, he didn't have the usual smugness on his face. Rather, he was strangely pensive—almost solemn, and Sasuke felt the all too familiar heartburn he would always have whenever Naruto was close and saying stupid, stupid things.

Why must the idiot make this so hard for him? It was as if the more he tried to tear himself away, the stronger Naruto reeled him back in, and Sasuke hated himself for not even trying to fight it. 

“Have I told you how fucking sappy you are?” Sasuke could feel the conch shell burning in his palm as he tried to ignore the rapidly spreading warmth inside him.

“Yeah, you might have mentioned it a few times.”

* * *

The school grounds was bustling with excited chatters as colorful as the party flags gliding across the sky above them. Autumn had flawlessly rolled into every corner of Kushiro, and the annual school festival had students parading around with glitters in their hair, and smiles so vibrant they could rival the sun. 

Apparently, that wasn't the case for Sasuke.

“I’m not going in there,” he scowled at the offending crafty cardboard booth in front of him.

Naruto gaped at him in mock insult. “You are literally the worst party pooper to have ever pooped in the history of party pooping.”

“What are you, seven?” 

“Sixteen, but that's not the point,” Naruto rebutted, completely missing _Sasuke's_ point. “It’s completely mature to take cute pictures in these cute wigs and these cute masks.”

Sasuke's frown only deepened at the sight of the horrendous pink wig Naruto was holding. “No. No way in hell, Naruto.”

He knew it wasn't the greatest idea to roam around the school festival with Naruto, but because he’d sworn to himself he would follow Naruto anywhere, he'd willingly resigned himself into the idiot's wishes of checking out every booth after their shift at their maid café. (In which Sasuke narrowly escaped from the preying eyes of the girls of Class 3-A who were all dead set on dressing him up, and he would've been in a skirt serving average frappe and pasta to the entire high school male population by now if Naruto hadn't backed him up and framed Kiba in his stead. So, fine, he owed Naruto again, and _fine, moron, I'll come with you._ )

Naruto pulled what he probably thought was his best deceitful puppy eyes and pouted at Sasuke. “Just one picture, and that's it. Please? I saved your ass back there, you know.”

Sasuke might have cooed—just because it was stupid Naruto and his stupid face and his stupidly cute puppy eyes—if he weren't too appalled by the idea of intentionally making himself look silly and immortalizing it with a photo. 

“I’m already paying my debt by letting you drag me out here, idiot.”

“Fucking smartass,” Naruto grumbled, putting the wig back in the box along with the other goofy props. “Whatever, it's just a stupid picture anyway. Let's go look at the other booths.”

Naruto began trudging to the other side of the school grounds where the upperclassmen had their flamboyant booths lined up, attracting half the campus with their crazy shenanigans and fancy souvenir stalls. Sasuke watched Naruto's retreating figure, instantly feeling guilty, and damn it all to hell, had he always been _this_ weak for the idiot?

“Wait, Naruto. I—fine, let's take a picture.”

And he should've known, really—purely because Naruto was a sly piece of shit—that it was all an act to manipulate him into agreeing when the idiot whirled with the widest triumphant grin Sasuke had ever seen on him.

Tragically, that was how Sasuke got himself posing for the camera in a clown's wig as ridiculous as Naruto, even reluctantly throwing a peace sign after the idiot refused to have their picture taken unless _the bastard poses properly like a normal human being._ Naruto was wearing a blonde pigtail wig—which admittedly fit him quite nicely—and a pair of angel wings was strapped to his shoulders as he sported a wink with a leering look at the camera, his tongue sticking out and arms (possessively) curling around Sasuke's arm. 

Naruto paid for two copies, one unquestionably going straight into Sasuke's wallet. He wouldn't tell Naruto this, but having every ounce of his self-respect stripped off of him right in front of a camera was worth it. 

The idiot dragged him into the notorious haunted house next, just because the whole festival experience wouldn't be complete without screaming and running away from crappy, second-rate movie ghosts with bad makeup. 

Apparently, that, too, wasn't the case for Sasuke.

Just before they entered, the idiot had called him a scaredy-cat, but as they ventured deeper into the maze of black curtains and spooky lights, Naruto was stuck to his side like glue. 

A bloody beheaded soldier jumping at them as they rounded the corner got Naruto screaming like a fucking banshee, reflexively tugging at Sasuke's arm and pulling him along to the opposite side. Their feet clumsily tangled in the dark, almost sending them tumbling on the floor.

“What the fuck—Naruto, stop stepping on my foot.”

“I’m sorry, oh my god,” Naruto clutched onto him tighter and Sasuke worried about the blood flow in his arm. “He just—did you see that? Fuck, I am going to die.”

“Who's the scaredy-cat again?”

“Fuck off.”

Three white ladies and one killer clown later, Naruto's hand had drifted from Sasuke's arm down to his hand. Sasuke didn't comment on it (he would if he could, but his heartbeat was just too goddamn loud in his ears and he couldn't think straight), but he did hold Naruto's hand firmly, their fingers entwining a little too perfectly. 

Though it was weird because Sasuke had never held someone's hand like this before, especially not Naruto's, but it felt quite…nice. Naruto's hand felt _right_ in his. 

Yet there was the nagging voice again, telling him it was wrong, telling him boys didn’t hold each other's hand like this, telling him he should pull away. 

Sasuke didn't.

Their hands stayed laced together even as they reached the exit, and neither of them looked like they wanted to let go until a few students strolling around started throwing them looks—looks Sasuke didn't like. Looks Sasuke was too familiar with. Looks he didn't want to see ever again.

So he abruptly pulled his hand back, ignoring the disappointment marring Naruto's face. The idiot seemed to recover, however, and he started sputtering despite himself, a wild blush tinting his cheeks.

He mumbled about craving a milkshake, and marched to the stall across the field, telling Sasuke he'd treat him a strawberry one—his favorite.

They maintained a good, safe distance from each other throughout the day.

* * *

That night when Sasuke got home, he became sure then. He was absolutely, positively, perfectly certain he wasn't allowed to have nice things. Or they just weren't meant to last, at least. Because sitting there on the dirty kitchen floor with a throbbing cheek that would most definitely bruise over the night convinced him he didn't have any right to be anywhere near happy. 

If he hadn’t been too busy stupidly holding hands with Naruto and having a fucking blast at school, he could have seen this coming. Cultural festivities were held on _holidays_ , and with holidays came Fugaku taking time off work, drinking out at some local pub, and coming home late at night reeking of beer and hate.

"I lost Mikoto because of you," Fugaku spat, his words were slurred, but they stung even so. His footsteps were clumsy, swaying, as he took strides toward Sasuke, and the rancid stench of the alcohol invaded Sasuke's senses, almost making him gag. "and I tried, I really tried, Sasuke, to look way past that, because at least I had Itachi. But you—you took him away, too."

He'd heard it so many times in this life—heard it spewing out of his father's mouth inebriated or not, heard it echoing in his head in every waking moment and down to the last second when he closed his eyes at night—that it shouldn't have affected him as much as it still did now. It shouldn't have fucking hurt, but the burning in his throat and the stinging in his eyes told him otherwise. He was tired. Sick of hearing it over and over. It wasn't his fault. None of it was his fault. He was finally learning to accept that fact, but his father just wouldn't let him make peace with himself. He was tired.

"It wasn't my fault!"

Sasuke didn't recognize his own voice, and for a moment he thought it was all in his head—so used to holding it all in. But Fugaku was looking at him, really _looking_ at him, the drunken haze in his eyes clearing, and he was scandalized, _angry_. Angrier than he was a second ago. Angrier than he had been. Sasuke had never talked back before.

There was a pause, strained and heavy. Then Fugaku crouched in front of him, and harshly gripped Sasuke's face in his large, rough hand. 

"What did you say?" his fingers dug deep into Sasuke's cheeks. They smelled like nicotine and the insides of a dead fish from the market. They smelled like death.

Sasuke wasn't brazen anymore, now that the paralyzing fear was back and taking over the initial adrenaline from his outburst. Yet, he repeated the words, because what else could he lose at this point? 

"It wasn't my fault,” he mumbled angrily, but he knew it had already lost its bite.

Fugaku clearly wasn't amused at the obvious jab at his rhetoric. "You're getting brave, I'll give you that."

He released his hold on Sasuke and stood up, supporting himself on the dinner table as he staggered back. Sasuke's head snapped up, startled— _disturbed_ , even—when Fugaku mirthlessly chuckled. He looked sinister under the dim kitchen light, and something cold yet blazing dripped down Sasuke's spine.

"No, I think I know what this is," he continued, looking down at Sasuke with dark eyes. "It's what that boy has been telling you, isn't it? He's been feeding that stupid brain of yours a bunch of lies."

"Dad, what are you—"

"Do you think that kid would still say all that bullshit if he knew you started the fire that night? Did you even tell him that, Sasuke?"

Something exploded within Sasuke. Something hot, and bitter, something brutal, and stifling. He couldn't breathe, and he was starting to see red around the edges. It provided him a new sense of purpose, gave him the will to stand up, not only from the floor but for himself.

"It was an accident!" he yelled, his voice coarse. Tears were already blurring his sight, but Sasuke couldn't care less. He was fucking _tired_. "I was a child, dad! A child! How could I have known a fucking matchstick would blow the house apart?! If there's anyone to blame, maybe it's you! If you hadn't been out pathetically wasting your life away at some fucking bar, Itachi wouldn't have—"

Fugaku's hand hitting the side of his face violently cut him off, his aim a little off from the alcohol. It landed largely on his ear, and there was a high-pitched ringing resounding in his head as he took the impact, stumbling a few steps back. Black spots danced in his vision, and the whole right side of his face felt hot and heavy. He steadied himself on the kitchen counter, leaning his full weight against the wood. 

"Don't you fucking raise your voice at me again," Fugaku was saying, his voice garbled to Sasuke's ears, but clear enough to deem it murderous. "I'm only saying this once, Sasuke: I want you to stay away from that kid. He's corrupting you."

That brought Sasuke back to his senses, his eyes sharply focusing on his father's spiteful ones. "No, no, Naruto has nothing to do with this. Don't put this on him, dad. I can't—"

"Do you want me to send you to Obito, then?"

Sasuke stopped, and looked pleadingly at his father. That was blatantly fucking unreasonable. Sapporo was at least a four-hour drive from here. Definitely, it was a place Naruto could easily reach if he tried, but to Sasuke, it was already too damn far. Too far from Naruto. And _no, no, please, he couldn't—_

"Dad," he gasped weakly, "please. He's—Naruto is my friend. You can't make me do this. Please."

"I don't ever want to see you near that boy again.”

The finality in Fugaku's tone scared him, and he watched helplessly as his father left the room, all attempts at reasoning flying out the window and into the cold night. And as he slinked back down on the floor, all rush and energy draining out of him, he could only think of Naruto—stupid Naruto and his stupid smile and his stupid face that he might never see again.

It was utterly foolish of him to think he didn't have anything to lose.

* * *

He ditched school the next day.

Going to class with paint stains all over his face was fine, he supposed, but angry purple bruises were another thing entirely. 

Of course, Naruto had come barging in his room after school hours as soon as his bike wheels skidded to a stop barely in front of Sasuke's porch. 

Of course, Naruto had gone ballistic at the sight of Sasuke's face all swelled and wrecked. 

Of course, Naruto had made a dash for the first aid kit in their house which he safely kept and reserved for times like this.

Of course, Sasuke's heart ached with so much fondness for the idiot as he sat still and let Naruto do his job. 

And it hurt, it hurt him so badly that this might well be the last time Naruto could fuss over and tend to him like this. All because he couldn't keep his stupid fucking mouth shut.

"Sas, we have to—we have to tell someone," Naruto said, his eyes wide and bright and so, so beautiful even when it quivered in alarm. "This has gone long enough."

Sasuke turned away. "No. We can't."

"Why the hell not? Are we just gonna sit around and wait for the day he fucking kills you?"

"You're overreacting."

Naruto gaped at him. "I am literally not, Sasuke. What the fuck. This isn't—this isn't normal. He can't keep doing this!"

Sasuke decided it was the perfect time to push Naruto away, because being able to see him—even if he couldn't go near him, touch him, feel him—was better than being miles apart and having no glimpses at all.

So he started. "Stay out of this, Naruto."

Naturally, Naruto took it in a stride. "I thought we've already established that isn't possible."

"I'm serious. I'm not your responsibility."

"Look, I know you always do that thing where you retreat and refuse any kind of help whenever this happens, and I get that you do it out of instinct or some sort of defense, but I swear on my life, Sas, I don't see you as a responsibility. I'm doing this because I genuinely care about you, and I'll do anything to protect you, you know that."

Fuck. 

He knew this was going to be difficult. How could he just push someone away as headstrong as Naruto? If he wanted this to work, he needed something that would hurt.

"Maybe you should stop talking about things you don't know," he said, putting as much venom as he could muster. "You're not my fucking therapist, and I'm not some helpless fucking damsel in distress in need of a savior."

That seemed to strike a chord, Sasuke thought, as he saw a flash of hurt in Naruto's eyes. Forcing the words out felt like chewing on broken glass; every syllable was a shard cutting through his tongue, and he could only bleed.

Naruto was too stunned to speak, his mouth dumbly opening and closing as he scoured for the appropriate reply. Finally, he settled with a quiet, defeated _I'm sorry._

Sasuke frowned; he expected the idiot to put up a fight, because Naruto wasn't Naruto if he wasn't adamantly arguing for his reasons. It was terribly disconcerting, and Sasuke wished the raging fire in those eyes would return—because he only ever felt _alive_ when it burned him—but somehow, for some sick, twisted reason, he was glad. Glad he was getting through to Naruto's thick, stubborn head. He was hurting Naruto.

But he needed it to hurt more.

“This has to stop,” he said, not really having the strength to look at Naruto. He might break if he did. “ _You_ have to stop. I don't need you looking after me like I'm a fucking toddler learning how to walk. Stop—just stop fucking hovering behind me all the goddamn time. I don't _need_ you, Naruto.”

“Sasuke, just what the hell is going _on_ —”

“You heard me,” Sasuke braced himself for the stupid, stupid thing he was about to say next. “Leave me alone.”

The ticking of his bedside clock was deafening in the grave silence that followed. The air was heavy, oppressive, and Sasuke felt like breathing was a luxury he could never afford as he teetered over the edge. He could sense he was nearing his breaking point as he glared holes at his feet, and if Naruto didn't say something _right about fucking now_ he might just go ahead and yank it all back and tell him it was all a joke and he never meant any of it and _please, don't ever leave my side—_

“Is that what you want?” Naruto asked thickly, and a roaring, urgent _No!_ was fighting its way out of Sasuke's throat as he listened to what was probably the simplest question yet the hardest one to answer.

“Yes.”

It was funny how a _single_ word had the absolute power to ruin his life. It was really funny, and he really wanted to laugh. Was this him losing his mind? Had he finally lost it?

Maybe he’d really gone insane because then he added, “You’re the fucking reason I get into trouble, and your stupid fucking hero complex only did more harm than good. So, yes, Naruto. I want you to stay away from me.” 

The silence stretched. Sasuke was gripping his sheets so hard he could tear it apart. Beside him, Naruto was unusually still, and they were sitting so close Sasuke's entire body ached to feel Naruto's warmth one last time. He could just reach out and…

“I’m—I’m really sorry, Sasuke,” Naruto's voice trembled when he spoke, and Sasuke—yet again—made the stupid mistake of looking at him. The pretty, pretty ocean eyes were glistening with tears. Sasuke could never forgive himself for being the reason behind it. “I just—it wasn't my intention. I'm so sorry. You know I would never do anything to hurt you. I didn't—I didn’t know and I'm so sorry. If you…really want me gone, then—then I won't bother you again. I understand, Sas. I'm really, really sorry.”

Sasuke was so, so mad at the world; he wanted it obliterated and razed to the ground. And he realized, long after Naruto had left, he was angrier at himself, hated himself more than he'd ever hated anyone, and all he could do was scream into his pillow until his throat felt raw, and cry into the night until he felt his eyes run dry.

There really was nothing more he could lose now.

* * *

It was too quiet.

The ride to school. Yamato sensei's homeroom class. Lunch. The ride back home. Christmas. Even the New Year. And everything else in between.

Their small friend circle had somehow gotten divided over the months, with Naruto staying with Shikamaru, Choji, and Kiba, while Sasuke was stuck with Ino and Sakura. They were tolerable—maybe even a pretty decent company if Sasuke was feeling generous—and they never really bothered him, if he didn't count all the times Sakura had scolded him about his eating habits, and all the ways Ino had fussed about his social ineptitude. It was ridiculous how it seemed like Naruto had been split into two and his personalities were shoved into the girls' body.

They stayed civil, even after all the mess, and their friends were smart enough not to ask about it. Sasuke doubted either of them would explain anyway, but he was still grateful they didn't tiptoe around the two of them and act like they were strolling on landmines. 

They did hang out sometimes, all seven of them, though it was rare for obvious reasons, and no one ever pushed it when one of them refused to go.

Fugaku had been quiet for quite some time. Not better, but quiet nonetheless, and Sasuke was fine with it. They never spoke of Naruto again after that night.

It was like everything was falling into the orbit of normalcy, but Sasuke knew it was all superficial, and if he thought hard enough about it, he'd say it was the calm before the storm. 

He hoped the storm never comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i just found the perfect [ song ](https://youtu.be/iv7-sQV3dIA) for this fic.
> 
> anyway thank u sm for reading!! 
> 
> kudos and comments would be lovely!! ♡
> 
> also, **stan day6!!**


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